Over My Head
by cadd9
Summary: Set after the movie. Verne still has trust issues with RJ. An incident causes a rift between the two, eventually causing RJ to leave the family. RJ runs into troubles from his past, and Verne resolves to fix the mess he's made. My first story.
1. Disconcerting Dreams

After the events that take place in DreamWork's _Over the Hedge_, Verne finds himself still having trouble trusting his newest family member, RJ. A typical outing to raid the human development turns into a huge fight between Verne and RJ. The incident causes a rift between the two, eventually causing a frustrated RJ to leave his heartbroken family, and Verne is left to pick up the pieces. RJ runs into troubles from his past, and Verne resolves to fix the mess he made. Rated T for violence and mild coarse language.

**Disclaimer: **Over the Hedge (movie) is owned by DreamWorks, and the characters are property of Michael Fry and T. Lewis. All the copyrights associated with Over the Hedge belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

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**-ONE-**

**Disconcerting Dreams**

* * *

RJ lay in a tree watching the night go by with his eyes lazily half-lidded. All was quiet save a grumbling noise from his middle. "Hey, none of that," he mumbled to his stomach. RJ stretched and then hopped out of the tree.

He strolled over to a hollow log and peered inside. RJ could make out the sleeping forms of his newly acquired "family." Lou and Penny, the porcupine couple, lay huddled together with their three kids, Bucky, Spike, and Quillo. Hammy the squirrel was curled up next to Verne the turtle, gripping a bag of cookies to his chest like a security blanket. RJ chuckled softly. And just beyond Verne was a large stash of various snack goodies. RJ smacked his lips and began to crawl into the log.

Tiptoeing over the others quietly, RJ approached the stash cautiously, wincing as his foot knocked against Verne's shell. Verne began to open his eyes slowly, then instantly he became alert. His eyes darted frantically around, stopping on a shadow to his right. Verne squinted to see the familiar form of a raccoon picking through their stash of food. Verne rolled his eyes.

"RJ, I swear, between your late night snack indulgences and the TV shows you watch at the most ungodly hours, I'm never going to get any sleep."

RJ hummed as he examined a bag of Dorritos. "Hey, don't blame me. I've tried to catch some Z's, but this guy-" he patted his tummy "-won't let me. Besides, sleeping at night is overrated." Verne cursed the inconvenience of nocturnal friends, and then rolled over to his side. RJ settled on a box of Twinkies, then crept out of the log.

Entering the cool night air, RJ breathed deeply, then plopped against the log. Reaching in to the box, he pulled out a Twinkie and unwrapped the crinkling plastic that held the snack cake captive. Carefully, his fingers pried the golden sponge cake from its wrapper and broke it in half, revealing the creamy filling within. RJ chortled with glee. Placing the cake on his tongue, an involuntary shiver ran through his body. RJ had his Twinkie. Life was good.

As RJ savored the Twinkie, he noticed Ozzie and his daughter Heather were hanging by their tails from a branch nearby. The opossums must have just returned from some midnight venture, and were now snoring softly. RJ wasn't the only night owl among his friends. From the time he had been with them, he noticed that Ozzie and Heather frequently spent most of the night away, often returning with various food items to add to the winter supply. Stella, the skunk, was probably out dating Tiger, a cat that the hedgies had accidentally befriended during a large food heist.

RJ watched the tiny sliver of the moon and mused that it had been a little over two weeks since the incident with Vicent, a very large and demanding bear that almost killed RJ after he had attempted to steal from him. RJ had managed to save his neck the last second by promising to restore all the food that had been lost, Vincent giving him only a week to do so. To accomplish the near-impossible task, RJ targeted a nearby human suburban community he discovered, and encountered for the first time a group of woodland creatures living behind the hedge. RJ had deceived the hedgies into believing that he would help them scavenge food off of humans for their hibernation, planning to take the food to Vincent once they had gathered enough. After a struggle with Verne, who didn't trust RJ and his intentions, several raids on the humans' houses, a scuffle with a control freak named Gladys Sharp and "The Verminater", RJ had managed to collect all the food to replace Vincent's stock exactly sans a can of Spuddies. On the finale raid to get the Spuddies, the others were captured as RJ escaped with the last item on his list. He had everything he needed to save his neck, but as he made away with the food, his guilt got the better of him. He ended up turning around and saving his family from the Verminator, and through a few turn of events, Gladys and the Verminater were arrested and Vincent was sent packing away to the Rockies.

RJ stuffed the last bit of Twinkie in his mouth and licked the remainder off his fingers. _Boy, a lot can happen in a week_, he thought. He pulled out an i-pod from the blue golf bag he kept all his findings in. RJ had found the i-pod while rummaging through the garbage cans. Its screen was a bit cracked, but it still played music. Placing the headphones over his ears, he hummed to himself and shifted a bit to get in a comfier position. Slowly, his eyelids began to shut as sleep crept upon him.

* * *

While most of the hedgies slept in blissful unawareness, Verne was experiencing a terrible and very persistent dream.

RJ was leading him and the other hedgies through a dark forest dimly lit by a waxing moon. RJ kept looking over his shoulder anxiously as in if he was expecting something, but when Verne asked about it, RJ only replied, "It's nothing." Verne could feel his tail tingling wildly, and he had the nagging feeling that they were being followed. Suddenly, RJ stopped with his hand raised. He beckoned them to hide in a nearby bush. The others obeyed quickly, but Verne stayed, looking quizzically at RJ.

"RJ, what's going o—"

"Hush, Verne! Hide!"

Suddenly, RJ's face held a look of pure terror. A huge, towering shadow stood over him. Verne's eyes widened as he ran to hide. Looking back, he could see that RJ was frozen in place as a huge paw reached out.

"RJ!" Verne skidded to a halt and began to turn around, but he was being held back. Verne looked to see Ozzie grasping his arm, staring back at him with large, frightened eyes. "No, don't go back! He'll only kill you too!"

Verne watched helplessly as Vincent picked up RJ by his head, RJ screaming in pain as the bear's claws bore into his skull. "AAAUGH! NO! VINCENT! STOP!"

Vincent gave a twisted smile as he watched the hated raccoon struggle. "It's too late now, RJ. The moment you broke your promise to me to save your family, your life was forfeit. It's a pity really. Giving up such a comfy lifestyle for what—a few insignificant animals that call you "family?" You're a lying, thieving, selfish, slimy rascal, RJ, no good for a family, and you know it." Vincent chuckled. "All you're good for is a meal." Vincent raised the raccoon towards his sharp, glistening teeth, his jaws opened wide.

"Wait!" RJ panted, shaking visibly. "I-I'm only good for o-one meal, r-right?" Vincent paused, his eyebrow raised. "I-if you spare me, I can show you where the others are."

Verne gasped in horror.

"Heh heh, now _that's _the RJ I know. You sly dog. Alright, I'll play along. The more the merrier, right?" He let RJ down. "Where's dinner?"

Verne watched with baited breath. RJ wouldn't, _couldn't_ betray them!

"They're right behind that hedge."

* * *

Verne awoke with a start. "It's just a dream… just a dream."

He sighed and got up. The others were still sleeping, and he noticed that Stella and Tiger were curled up next to Hammy. _Must have snuck in late last night_, he thought, smiling a little. He made his way out of the log into the early morning sunshine.

In contrast to RJ, Verne had always been an early riser. He liked to begin the day quietly reflecting on anything that came to mind. This morning in particular, he was thinking about how beautiful the daybreak was. It was spring, and the flowers had begun to bloom, butterflies flitting about for their breakfast of nectar. Birds were singing their anthems to the sunrise, and soft, pale light broke through the branches of poised trees. There was a slight breeze, and the smell of lilacs from a human's garden. Verne felt a huge smile creep across his face, and a song rise in his chest.

Verne breathed in deeply, and then turned to see an unkempt raccoon sprawled across the grass, earphones in, clutching a box of Twinkies, surrounded by wrappers, and his mouth hanging wide open to let out a very loud and unpleasant snore, marring the perfect beauty of the atmosphere. Verne stared. Then he frowned. Then he sulked away, grumbling something inaudible.

Sometimes it amazed him how different he and RJ were. They were like opposite ends of the spectrum. Verne was cautious, compassionate, sensitive and disciplined. RJ was risky, devil-may-care, cool, and arrogant. Verne had intelligence, RJ had street-smarts. Verne planned for the future, RJ concerned himself only with the "now." Verne was the killjoy, RJ the reveler.

There was one thing, however, that Verne hoped…_prayed _he and RJ had in common. And that was an incontestable loyalty to this little group of woodland animals that he liked to call "family."

"Hey, Mildude! Mind doing us all a favor and taking a bath?"

Verne looked to see RJ approaching him with his hand gripping his nose. Verne rolled his eyes and replied in annoyance, "I was just on my way over. I was hoping that if I did it before anyone woke up, I'd be able to soak in _privacy._"

"Aww, you're not still mad about _that _little joke, are you?"

"That was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me in my life, thank you. And then you had to go and post it on YouTube."

"Dude, that got like, 58,000 hits in three days! You're famous! Trust me, in a few years, we'll all look back on that little incident and laugh. And then you'll thank me."

"Yeah, sure. And when I die of embarrassment from whatever prank you have planned for April 1st, I'll be sure to thank you then, too."

"Good. Well, I've got to get ready for a big heist this afternoon. Our Twinkie supply is running a bit low, and Hammy just informed me that he needs more cookies. I'm gonna make a list of things to get for the stash. Any requests?"

Verne's tail tingled. "Um, are you sure we need to go steal from the humans right now? It's so soon after the incident with the Verminater and Gladys, and I'm sure the humans are all going to be extra alert. Besides, Hammy has enough nuts stored in that log to last us far into next year, and-"

"Verne, Verne, Verne, Verne." RJ placed his paws on Verne's shoulders and shook his head. "When are you going to learn to trust the raccoon? Besides," he said, making a face. "How can you even consider that stuff to be food? It grows into a tree! And it taste like…like the stuff that collects in the rain gutter! The nuts are there for an _emergency. _We, my friend, are in no such dire situation, and so I will not be forced to eat that…that _stuff_. Understood?"

"No. But then, I probably never will understand you. Now add loofah to that list, and let me bathe in peace."

"Loofah is not a food, Verne."

"No, but you asked me what I needed, and that's what I need. Unless you like the mildew smell."

RJ groaned. "Fine, fine, we'll get you a loofah. Now PLEASE take a dip before I pass out. Later, Mildude."

"Later."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I'll upload the other chapters as they come. This is my first fanfic, so any critiques or comments are _very_ welcome.**

**Remember: Every time you praise a story, an author gets a grip. Every time you critique a story, an author improves a little. And every time you flame a story, an author has a good laugh at your expense...**


	2. Plans

**-TWO-**

**Plans**

**

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**

RJ stood on a chair amidst the other hedgies. On his head sat a captains hat that had a small hole chewed out, exposing his left ear. In his right hand was a stick like those used at a pool table, while his other hand counted those present.

"…Heather, Stella, Tiger. Good! Everyone's here, sans Verne. I'll bring him up to speed when he gets back."

"Oh! Oh! Pick me!"

RJ pointed the pole at a little orange squirrel waving his hand wildly. "Yes, Hammy?"

"Umm, ahh, you forgot to count RJ!"

RJ face-palmed. "Hammy, I'm pretty sure I'm still here."

"Oh, okay."

RJ continued. "This afternoon, I have a mission for all of us. This-" he pulled out a roll of paper and unfurled it. "—is our list of objectives." The hedgies oohed and aahed as they examined the sheet. Little pictures of various food items cut out from magazines and food ads were taped haphazardly all over the list.

"Oh! Oh!"

"Yes, Hammy?"

"What's that?" Hammy asked, pointing to a little scribble in the corner of the page.

"That, my dear Hamsquad, is a loofah. Verne asked for one, and since I couldn't find any pictures of one, I drew it."

"Ohhhh. Okay!"

"Now," RJ began, rolling up the page. "Thanks to the scouting efforts of Ozzie and Heather—" Heather smiled awkwardly as her dad made a huge, sweeping bow. "—we now know a single house where we can obtain everything on this list. Bucky! Spike! Quillo! The map!"

The three porcupines saluted and proceeded to spread out a large roll of construction paper over the log. The hedgies gathered around it as RJ leapt from his chair to the log. The map was drawn with crayons by RJ, and it roughly resembled the Wilkinson's backyard.

"Now because we're going to hit their house in the afternoon, all the Wilkinsons will be at work and school. So the main issue we will have is with their dog." RJ tapped the stick figure dog with his rod. "Thankfully, it's not a very bright dog. So as long as we keep him distracted, things should go smoothly.

"Verne, Hammy, and myself will do the main smuggling. Ozzie and Heather are going to be waiting just outside the back door. When we bring the food to you, you two will take it to Lou and Penny, who will be stationed at the hedge. Lou and Penny, when Ozman and Heather bring you the food, you will take it back to the log. Everyone got that so far?"

The hedgies nodded.

"Good. Now for the exciting part. Bucky, Spike, and Quillo, I'm counting on you three to keep that dog distracted. I don't care what you do, as long as it keeps Mr. Barks-a-lot from blowing our cover. And as long as it's within reason," he added, after a getting look from Penny.

"Sweeeeeet!" the trio chimed.

"Stella, if anything goes wrong, you know what to do."

"Oh, I am there!"

"Tiger, as much as I hate to say this, I think it's best if you sit this one out. Dogs and cats, well, you know, don't mix well, so-"

The Persian cat nodded once and struck a noble pose. "I understand. It is my sacred duty to await your safe return."

"Awesome. Well then, now that that's settled, we'll start as soon as Verne gets back."

Verne wore an anxious face as he walked back from his bath. Try as he might, he couldn't ignore his tingling tail, which was steadily getting worse. Even though he hated to admit it, he still couldn't bring himself to fully trust that raccoon. And he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was about him either.

Maybe it was because he knew nothing about RJ's past life. Maybe it was the way that RJ hid his emotions and intentions, always giving an air of aloofness. Maybe it was the ease with which RJ explained things he knew nothing about essentially lying. Maybe it was the dream that haunted Verne every night and his intuition telling him something was amiss.

_Or maybe a combination of all of the above, _Verne thought. The turtle peeked through the hedge to see RJ balancing a rod in his left palm as the three porcupine kids looked on with amazement.

"…see? It's not that hard. You can use that as part of your distraction if you want."

"Awe-some!" Bucky, Spike, and Quillo clapped and tried it themselves.

"Verne, there you are. Everybody's waitin' fo you!"

Verne nearly jumped out of his shell, as the last voice had come from right behind him. Verne spun around to see a female skunk posed with her arms crossed, looking at him from under her bangs.

"Oh, Stella, it's you," he breathed with relief, turning to leave.

"Hang on a sec, hon. I know that look. What's eatin' atcha?"

"Oh, nothing, it's nothing."

Stella wasn't buying it. Verne sighed, glanced back at RJ, and decided it was best just to get straight to the point. "Can we trust RJ?"

Stella stared at him for a second, then snorted. "Ha! About as much as a dog in a field of fire hydrants!" She noticed Verne's solemn face and stopped laughing. "Sorry, bad analogy. Why do you ask? Is yo tail actin' up?"

Verne nodded. "That, and I keep having these dreams where RJ…and the way he seems to hide himself under the guise of cool carelessness…and we don't really know anything about his past…and-"Verne sighed. It all made sense in his head, but it wasn't coming out right. "—I just don't want our family hurt."

To his surprise, Stella's features had softened considerably, and as she placed her hand on his back, he could see concern written all over her face.

"Look, I know RJ was all con artist when he first came to us, but he was all alone in the world with a bear on his tail. I don't think he'd ever had a friend before, so I don't blame him fo tryin' to use us to save his neck."

Stella looked up thoughtfully. "Y'know, I think the reason he ended up riskin' his neck to save us was cuz we'd put so much trust in him. An' I think that's what he needs most from us now, is trust."

Verne gazed at Stella. "That was the most beautiful, profound thing I think I've ever heard you say. That really makes a lot of sense."

Stella blushed beneath her fur. "Aw, now you're makin' me blush!" she laughed. Then she added, "Y'know Verne, between you an' me, I don't think you have a thing to worry about with RJ. I bet he's the type that puts on airs to keep other from worryin', but underneath that mask, he's as sweet and soft as a baby kitten. I don't think he could hurt a fly, let alone his family. I'd follow that guy to the end of the earth!"

Verne knew this was true. All of them would follow RJ anywhere. Verne just hoped RJ was leading them all in the right direction.

"Ah! Verne, there you are! I was hoping you'd be back soon so-" RJ had come crashing through the bushes, but stopped when he noticed Stella standing close to Verne, her paws in his. A devious grin spread across his face. "Oops, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Stella bristled. "What kind of lady do you take me for, you little—"

"Woah, woah! Hey! I was only joking. Besides, we all know Verne couldn't win anything that big."

With a great commotion, Bucky, Spike and Quillo appeared on the scene, popping out of the bush next to RJ. "Alright! Verne's here! Now we can to the mission!"

"Mission?" Verne asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, like I was telling you earlier, remember? We're gonna get you a loofah. Hey kids, go rally the troops and let them know Captain RJ wants them in their places pronto!"

"Yeaaaaah!"

"Gangwaaaaaay!"

"Geronimo!"

"Wait, right now? What's the plan? Whose-" Verne didn't even finish his sentence before RJ dashed off with him in tow.

"No time now! I'll let you know as we go."


	3. Of Cookies, Snack Cakes, and Loofahs

**-THREE-**

**Of Cookies, Snack Cakes, and Loofahs**

**

* * *

**

"But who-?"

"Shh!"

"What's the-?"

"Tss!"

"How're we-?"

"Hush Verne! I'm trying to concentrate!" RJ was standing on the inquisitive turtle's back, trying to pick the lock to the Wilkinson's back door with a bent wire clothes hanger. After several failed attempts to get the raccoon to reveal certain details about the plan, Verne gave up and resigned to watching Hammy play with the Wilkinson's lawn décor.

The Wilkinson's yard looked very much like any other lot in the neighborhood. Its key features were a small swimming pool and a dog house belonging to their pet beagle, Banjo. Banjo wasn't a very aggressive dog, but Verne still felt uneasy about having the porcupine kids handle him. After all, he was several times their size. They were currently distracting the overweight beagle with a game of fetch, which both parties seemed to be enjoying immensely.

"Grah! Stupid…lock…thing…" RJ rattled the door knob impatiently. "Hand me a bobby pin, will you?"

Verne selected a small hair pin from the various items he was holding, and held it up to RJ's outstretched hand. RJ grabbed the pin and continued fiddling with the lock. Absorbed in his work, RJ involuntarily placed his foot on Verne's nose as he shifted positions.

"Ugh. Do you mind?" Verne grumbled in an irritated tone.

_Click._

"Ha! Got it!" RJ turned the knob and pushed against the door, toppling over as the door swung open. RJ picked himself up off the floor and smoothed his fur, issuing orders to Verne. "Get Hammy and let the others know the game's on. I'm going in."

Verne signaled for the other animals to get in place. Ozzie and Heather snuck across the yard, avoiding detection from Banjo.

"Is everyone ready behind the shrub?" Verne asked of the two possums. They nodded. "Great. Then I'll get Hammy and…Hammy?"

Verne spotted Hammy scrambling around in a flower pot nearby.

"Pretty flowers! Do flowers sneeze? Hey, where do you keep your cookies? Ooh!" Hammy something up, sniffed it, gnawed on it, turned it over and licked it. "Mmm! Tastes shiny. It's mine! Nobody touch it! I found it first! You can't have it! It's mine!"

Verne rolled his eyes. "What is it now, Hammy?"

The squirrel ran up to Verne and held up a small metallic object. "Oh joy, the key to the house."

Hammy held it tightly to his chest. "I get to keep it, right? Huh? Huh? Do I? DO I?"

"Sure, why not. It's not like we can inconvenience the humans any further, right?"

Verne's sarcasm was lost on the hyperactive squirrel, who squealed with glee and began to hop and skip about as he followed the exasperated turtle into the house.

"Good luck!" Heather called after them.

"Thanks," Verne replied. "We'll need it."

The two animals found themselves in the Wilkinson's kitchen. The kitchen looked similar to all the other kitchens in Suburbia, blending granite counter tops and marble flooring with stainless steel appliances and wooden cabinets. An attractive crystalline vase brimming with vibrant irises, tulips, snapdragons, and Peruvian lilies rested on top of the counter.

RJ was sitting in the refrigerator, tossing selected food items into a pile on the floor and checking off his list with a crayon. He stopped his routine to glance over his shoulder. "Oh good! The cavalry's arrived. Help take this stuff out to the others."

RJ carelessly tossed a bag of chocolate chip cookies over his shoulder. Hammy dropped his key and dove for the cookies, catching them the moment they left RJ's fingers. Hammy proceeded to smother the cookies with affection. "So… chocolate-y..."

"Yup," RJ said, examining a container of whipped cream. "Take them to Heather and she'll make sure it gets back to the log."

Hammy obeyed reluctantly, parting tearfully with his cookies at the door. "Goodbye, chocolate chip cookies! Don't let the squids eat you," he whispered. He watched Heather carry his prized possession away until she disappeared into the hedge.

Verne walked up to the door and placed his load down. He cast a worried glance at Banjo and the kids. They seemed to be doing a good job of keeping the beagle's attention. But what if Banjo noticed the opossums carrying the—Verne froze. Banjo had spotted Ozzie and was making a beeline straight for him. Ozzie stopped in his tracks and fell over 'dead.' The beagle began to sniff the possum. _Please don't bark. Please don't bark. For the love of all that is good, please don't bark._ Banjo stopped sniffing and resumed playing with the porcupines. Verne released his held breath.

"My nerves can't take this anymore," Verne informed RJ. "Why'd you have to pick a house with a dog?"

RJ crawled down from the fridge shelf and shut the door. "It was the only house with everything on this list _and _a loofah. Which, by the way, should be in the bathroom down the hall and to the left."

"Okay, but did you have to use the kids to distract the dog? Why not someone older and more experienced, like Ozzie or Stella? Why not_ you_? Why is it you always seem to give the dangerous tasks to someone else?"

"Verne, Verne, Verne. You're worrying about nothing again!"

"Nothing? Those kids-"

"—Are perfect for the job. Cute, fun, energetic, and plenty of spines to protect them from harm. Plus, they're kids! Everybody knows beagles warm up to kids faster than anyone else. Besides, I don't have spines, a shell, super-charged toots, warp speed, or amazing theatrics to protect me if Banjo decided that I'd make a good snack. I'm the last person I'd pick for the job for a good reason."

Verne was silent. He felt his anger and anxiety surge within him. Millions of questions, retorts, and worries raced through his mind. He felt like yelling everything that was wrong with RJ's plan. He wanted to throttle RJ, to _force _him to be more careful about endangering the lives of his family members. For a second, Verne felt like he was dealing with the old RJ, the RJ in his re-occurring nightmares. The selfish, manipulating RJ that cared nothing about anyone but himself. The RJ who would _hurt his family_.

But then Verne remembered. Stella had said that families have to trust each other. That, if given the chance, RJ would come through for them like he had before. Verne ignored his tingling tail. He ignored the bad dreams, all the worst-case scenarios in his head. He fought to ignore RJ's past mistakes and all the flashing red lights. Verne couldn't bring himself to trust RJ yet, but he trusted Stella and her wisdom. Breathing deeply, then exhaling softly, Verne mumbled, "I'm going to go get the loofah."

"You do that," RJ replied distractedly as he climbed up the counter. "Hey Hambone," he called to Hammy, who was still gazing forlornly after his cookies. "Ozzie said something about the Wilkinsons keeping a lot of food in their pantry. Want to check for cookies?" Instantly the squirrel perked up and dashed around the room, searching frantically. "Pantry's that way," RJ instructed, pointing to a closet across the room.

As Verne searched the bathroom, he tried to keep himself from worrying by keeping an optimistic mindset. But the little pessimistic turtle was not well versed in the art of positive thinking, and so he found himself thinking two negative thoughts for every positive one.

_Come on Verne, get a grip. We've only done this a thousand times. We come in, take what we need, and get away safely like we always do. Well, almost always… _Verne found the loofah bath brush lying on the side of the bath tub. He picked it up and examined it. _Oh, very nice. It even has a wooden handle to reach the hard-to-get places. And it's only been lightly used…oh gross; it still has hairs on it. _As Verne picked the hairs off his new bath sponge, he began to wonder what time it was. _How long have we been here? What if the humans get back before we're done? _Verne didn't like the thought.

He quickened his pace as he left the bathroom and made for the kitchen. In the kitchen, he found RJ had climbed up to the cabinets and was searching through them zealously. Whatever he was looking for he must have thought important, because he had thrown down his clipboard and all the contents of the looked-through cabinets.

"RJ," Verne said uncomfortably. "I think we should be going soon."

"Huh? Oh. Okay, we'll go as soon as I find where they hid the Twinkies."

Verne shifted uneasily, trying to remain composed. "Um… so did we get everything else on the list?"

"Uh huh," RJ mumbled inattentively.

"That's good," Verne said. _What am I saying? We need to go!_ "So, do you think you'll be ready anytime soon?"

RJ groaned in annoyance. "Look, see that circle thing hanging on the wall with all the numbers? It's called a clock. It dictates when people do certain things. See how there's a small arrow and a long arrow? They've got some kind of code with those arrows and numbers. When the long arrow points at the '12' and the little arrow points at the '3', the humans know to come back. As long as it's not pointing like that, we're safe."

Verne studied the 'clock'. He didn't quite understand all that RJ had said—and for all he knew, he could have been lying—but the small arrow looked awfully close to the 3, and the long arrow looked very close to the 12.

"It looks awfully close to the code that makes them come home," Verne said worriedly. If RJ had heard him, he must have chosen to ignore him. "Hammy, finish up, we need to go now!" Verne called to the squirrel. He heard a muffled, "Okay!" "RJ, I know you really like Twinkies and all, but we can always come back. For now, we have everything else that we need, so let's go." RJ still didn't respond.

"Come on, RJ! We need to leave!" Verne called desperately. He was beginning to lose his patience.

"Okay, okay, just let me find the box of Twinkies and we'll go!"

"No, we don't have time for your stupid Twinkies. Get down here and let's _GO_!"

"Hey, if you get your loofah, I get my Twinkies."

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE LOOFAH, I'M CONCERNED ABOUT THE SAFETY OF MY FAMILY!" Verne flung his loofah to prove his point, and it went flying through the air…straight towards RJ. Verne watched with horror as the wooden handle struck the back of RJ's head with a "THWAK!" causing the raccoon to lose his balance. His arms flailed for a few seconds, then he fell off the cabinet, smacking into the granite counter top before hitting the floor.

Verne stared at the raccoon lying face down on the floor, unsure of what to do or say. "RJ?"

RJ didn't budge. Letting the pain subside for a few moments, he slowly picked himself off the floor, grimacing as he rubbed the back of his head. "So," RJ snarled. "Am I not considered family?"

Verne didn't answer.

"Let me guess. You're edgy because you're getting bad vibes from your tail. So you trust your back end more than me?"

Verne recovered from his shock and snapped back, "Well, it was right when you were using us to pay your debt! I don't see why it couldn't be right now."

"Oh, I see," RJ said, throwing his hands into the air. "So you expect me to run off any minute now with all the food, leaving you all helpless for some selfish motive. It all makes sense now! Poor Verne was right all along about bad RJ! He was right to disregard his own words about families trusting each other, because that sneaky, slimy RJ just couldn't be trusted!"

"RJ, it's not that I don't trust you," Verne retaliated, slightly hurt. "It's just that you've never had any family other than yourself, so I can't just assume you-"

"Assume what? That I won't just walk out on ya'll? That's nice Verne. Real nice."

"Hey, you weren't above that before. What's to keep you from doing it again?"

That remark hit a nerve. RJ lost it and lunged at the turtle, pinning him down on his back and glaring at him murderously. "Care to say that to my face, Moldboy?"

Verne lay stunned for a few seconds, then retorted venomously, "Yeah, sure, and while I'm at it, I might as well add that you are the most selfish, conceited _jerk _that I have ever met in my life." Verne thrust all his might into his short legs and kicked RJ off, sending the raccoon sliding across the floor and into the kitchen counter. Verne stood up and continued releasing his pent-up anger. "All you care about is food and entertainment. You spend your whole day watching, listening to, and eating _junk_. And when you're not doing nothing, you're busy planning some _mission a la impossible_ to attain more junk we can all live without! Why can't you see how wrong it is to risk all our lives for your _cravings_?"

"You know, Verne," RJ said, getting to his feet. "It's funny you say that. You claim that I use our family to get what I want, but you do the exact same thing. That term you used, "selfish, conceited jerk"- it fits you perfectly. If something's not going your way, you use concern for the family's safety as an excuse to not do something. If you really are concerned for everyones well-being, why not take a few calculated risks to improve their quality of life? I'll tell you why. Because you're a selfish, conceited jerk who thinks his knowledge and cautiousness automatically makes him and his decisions superior to everyone else."

Verne realized RJ had backed him into a corner, both physically and verbally. He lashed out defensively. RJ dodged the attack and struck Verne's nose, causing the turtle to yelp. Clutching his nose with one hand, Verne balled the other fist and swung at RJ's head. The blow caught RJ under the chin, giving Verne a chance to deal a solid punch to his opponent's stomach. As RJ reeled over in pain, Verne caught sight of Hammy, who was staring at them wide-eyed from a distance. Verne had forgotten about the little squirrel, and he began to regret it as he watched Hammy stutter, "S-stop," with a trembling lower lip. _Great. I know I said some things that weren't Hammy-safe._

But before Verne could say anything, RJ was upon him again, catching him off-guard. The turtle quickly hid inside his shell, but not before receiving a scratch on his nose. Verne winced as RJ cursed loudly, wishing Hammy wasn't nearby.

"Verne, get your ass out of there before I make you!"

"I'd like to see you try, moron. Now watch your language. Hammy's close by."

RJ clawed furiously at the shell. "Easy for _you _to say, ya frickin' weenie!" But RJ stopped clawing, and silence followed. Verne peeked out of his shell.

RJ was still holding Verne up by his shell, but he was looking over his shoulder at Hammy. Hammy was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his glassy eyes wide open and his paws clutched tightly. "P-please, s-stop," he whispered feebly, his voice nothing more than a squeak. Verne and RJ just stared at the little squirrel, each feeling guilty that, once again, Hammy was the one hurt because of their dispute. But before either could say anything, a scream from the backyard pierced the silence, followed by a shrieked "My baby!" and a loud baying from Banjo.

"Crud," RJ muttered, dropping Verne. All three of the animals made a dash for the door.

"If anyone's hurt because of your stupid plan, I'm going to personally kill you," Verne shouted above the din at RJ.

"Please," RJ hollered back. "Then write on my tombstone, 'Here lies RJ, who finally found peace from a certain constantly nagging turtle.'"

The three arrived at the door and looked out.

RJ quickly assessed the situation. One of the porcupine kids had fallen into the pool and was struggling to stay afloat. Lou and Stella were trying to reach Quillo by extending a pool noodle for him to grab onto, while others were throwing anything that they could find that could float into the pool. Banjo bayed loudly in the background, and Penny was crying "Oh jeepers! Oh jeepers!" over and over again.

"It's not reaching him! We need something longer!" Stella shouted over the noise.

"We don't have anything else!"

"What about the hose?"

"Give me that thing!"

Stella grabbed the hose and swung the end over her head to fling out to the middle of the pool. But it was too late; Quillo had gone under.

RJ felt his heart skip a beat. _No_. RJ jumped down from the doorstep and ran out to the pool, then taking a deep breath, he plunged in.

The pandemonium above disappeared in the dead silence of the water. Bubbles swirled around RJ as chlorine burned his eyes and frigid water soaked his fur. Recovering from momentary shock, RJ's electric blue eyes darted around in search of the little porcupine. He found him sinking slowly, and swam towards him using short, quick strokes with his arms and legs. _Stay with it, little buddy. _RJ caught the little porcupine, wincing as Quillo's spikes pricked his skin. Pulling Quillo over his shoulder, he pushed off the bottom and paddled hard, striving to carry Quillo's extra weight. He could feel his lungs bursting, and released the last of his held breath in a cloud of bubbles. _Just a little further…_

Bursting through the surface, RJ gasped the air and felt it fill his lungs. He reached for a pool floatie and threw Quillo over it, then started to paddle towards the pool's edge. As he neared the edge, he lifted Quillo to his mother's outstretched arms.

Penny received her son, choking on her tears, and handed him to his father. Lou carefully placed his son on the pavement and began to push water out of his lungs. The hedgies gathered around with baited breath as water drained from Quillo's mouth. Suddenly, Quillo began to cough. Lou stepped back as Quillo spat out pool water.

"D-dad?" Quillo mumbled feebly, eyelids fluttering.

"I'm here son."

There was a collective sighing of relief. Penny wiped away a tear and embraced her son with a smile. Quillo's brothers followed suite.

"Don't EVER do that again," Bucky chided.

"Yeah, you scared me to death!" Spike added. The three porcupines giggled as Ozzie grasped his chest and fainted.

"What happened?" Verne asked, still trying to put two and two together.

The hedgies looked at each other. Heather spoke up. "Bucky, Spike, and Quillo were, like, distracting Banjo and all, and then Banjo saw the rest of us, and things went totally crazy, and then Quillo, like, fell into the pool!"

"Is he okay?" RJ called from the poolside, wringing water from his tail.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Verne answered angrily. Unaware of what had happened in the house, everyone minus RJ and Hammy stared at Verne in confusion.

"—the hell?" RJ replied defensively. "I didn't see _you_ jumping in to save him."

The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife.

"Excuse me? Whose brilliant plan put him in that situation in the first place, jacka-?"

"Guys," Stella cut in sharply. "I don't know what yo problem is, but you'd better get over it _NOW_. We're still in the Wilkinson's yard, an' they're bound to be here soon."

As in if to affirm her words, a car could be heard pulling into the Wilkinson's driveway. Like clockwork, everyone looked to RJ for orders. RJ had only one word for them.

"Run!"

* * *

Quick note to readers- I'll post updates for this story on my profile page from here on out.


	4. Tears for Lullabies

**-FOUR-**

**Tears for Lullabies**

* * *

All of them made it through the hedge and back to the log without any further incident. Tiger greeted them joyfully, but was perplexed by the group's gloomy visage. The porcupine family withdrew into the log without a word, and the opossums disappeared into the trees.

"What is the matter?" Tiger inquired. "I trust it all went well, no?"

"Well, it would have be _FINE_ if—" Verne stopped short after Stella shot him a look. Tiger got the feeling that there had been some kind of dissonance among them.

Stella sighed. "I'll fill you in on the details in a minute, Tiger. You two," Stella said, glaring at RJ and Verne. "—are gonna stay right here and fix whatever's going on between you. You have one hour." Stella grabbed Tiger and walked off, leaving RJ and Verne to themselves.

For a few minutes, both stood in silence, their arms crossed and backs to each other. They glared at each other through the corners of their eyes, sending daggers with every glance. Then, simultaneously, they spun around and started yelling again.

"You almost got us all killed for a stupid snack cake!"

"What the hell is your problem, Verne? Do you think I meant for that to happen?"

"No! But the thing is that you don't care! You're constantly plotting and scheming to steal from the suburbanites, meanwhile you shirk your responsibilities as a family member!"

"What? You think that raid was about me? It was for everyone's benefit! A family outing!"

"You think that Quillo _enjoyed _nearly drowning? That I was _enjoying_ every second spent for our safety? Did you think even once that the 'family outing' could have turned into a repeat of the Gladys/Exterminator incident?"

"Hey, it's not like I wasn't keeping an eye out for ya'll…"

"Keeping an eye out for us? _Keeping an eye out for us? _I had to knock you to the damned floor before you started thinking of something besides your stupid Twinkies!"

RJ shifted uncomfortably.

"When is this cycle of you going to end? When will you finally listen to me and not throw all caution to the wind?"

RJ was avoiding eye contact.

Verne lowered his voice. "RJ, when are you going to straiten up and start acting like you have a family? Hammy, Heather, the kids… they all look up to you! The whole family trusts you to lead them. And I can't let them follow you into every danger on the list. Your lifestyle is just too erratic for family life."

RJ spoke up now. "Hey, don't blame me for the way I am. I know I make a few mistakes here and then, but you seriously need to lighten up. I've already shown ya'll I care. What more do I need to do for you to accept and trust me?"

It was Verne's turn to avoid eye contact. He felt bad that RJ could sense his lingering suspicion and uneasiness; after all, RJ had proven that he was reliable to everyone else. Still, Verne felt that it was his place to worry, to be extra cautious. "I'm sorry, RJ. You know that I'm extremely tentative, but… I don't know. It just seems that you just don't get it."

RJ raised an eyebrow.

"I know you've never had a family, so I really shouldn't blame you, but if you ever thought of anything besides meeting your every little whim, you might see that this family has needs other than junk food and video games. Life is more than pleasure, RJ, and if you don't understand that, you don't belong in a family."

"Of course I know that, Verne! But you don't have to take life so seriously. There's nothing wrong with trying to get the most out of life."

"Except when it means endangering others! Grah, why can't I get you to understand that?"

RJ bit his lip. "…This isn't about what happened in the house, is it? Cause I... didn't mean to lash out like that. I lost my temper. Being knocked down several feet will do that," RJ said, forcing a small laugh. He massaged the back of his neck. "Look...I'm still kind of in survival mode. That's how things were before meeting ya'll. It was just about me and my needs, trying to stay alive. I still haven't quite grasped the fact that that's not the way things are anymore."

Verne's eyebrow arched as he scanned RJ's face silently. Dropping his gaze to the floor, he let out a sigh. "Look RJ, I'm going to be real frank with you. Our family has been through a lot together. Before you came along, our biggest danger was not having enough food to make it through the winter. But ever since you came along… well, let's just say that we've met more trouble and life-threatening events in the two weeks you've been with us than in all the years we've lived together combined. And you know why that is? I'll tell you. It's because I wouldn't _let_ anything bad happen. I care about this family more than I can express. I will do anything in my power to protect them, even if it means asking you to leave. And if you're not going to change, I'm afraid that I am going to have to ask you to move on."

RJ blinked, trying to absorb everything that entailed. "What?" he finally managed to gasp. He couldn't believe what Verne had just said. "Are you asking me to... leave?"

"Well, no, not exactly...at least I hope not. What I'm saying is that your habits are destructive to our family, and if you're not going to change, then the best thing for our family would be for you to leave."

"...what?" RJ's expression changed from one of shock to indignation. "Whatever happened to 'I'm what the family needs now?'"

"The world doesn't depend on you to revolve. And certainly not our family. You've been everything but a family member, and I sure everyone would agree with me that your selfish motives taint your better traits. You're the kind that would only save himself."

RJ fumed. "What are you talking about? I risked my life to save ya'll just a few weeks ago. I saved Quillo just this afternoon!"

"But not without motives. Both situations were your fault, and you wouldn't be able to live with the guilt."

"Oh, so now it's all my fault, is it?"

"You just don't get it, do you? I-"

"OH, I GET IT ALRIGHT!" RJ interjected angrily. He had had enough."Apparently, 'friends' and 'families' aren't all that I made them out to be. Next time you advertise for 'family,' leave out the 'loving trust and acceptance' part. It really gives people the wrong ideas." RJ picked up his blue golf bag, slung it across his back.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Back to a family of me. If ya'll can't deal with me, then damn ya'll to hell. I can do better on my own."

"RJ! Wait!" RJ paid no heed to the turtle. Verne growled in frustration. "Fine then! Run away! Run away from all your problems! I'm sure it's easier that way! See what I care!"

He turned away muttering to himself, when something caught his eye. A small orange squirrel clambered down a nearby tree and paused in the middle of the path that RJ had taken. It was Hammy. He angrily wiped away a tear as he glared at Verne, then he ran off after RJ.

"Hammy, wait! I didn't mean…" Verne's voice trailed off. _Shoot. Why does he always witness exactly what he shouldn't?_

* * *

Hammy zipped through the trees searching for RJ. He heard Verne calling after him, but paid no attention. He felt angry about what Verne had said to RJ, and hoped strongly that RJ hadn't really meant what he had said. He spotted the raccoon a little ways away, and scrambled down the tree. As he approached his friend, he suddenly stopped. Was RJ… crying?

Hammy suddenly felt very afraid. He had never seen RJ in such a state, and it disturbed him acutely.

"R-RJ?" He whispered tentatively.

"Gah!" RJ exclaimed, spinning around, his eyes wide and teary. "O-oh, Hammy, i-it's you." RJ turned his face away. "Look…I need to be…a-alone right now."

"But RJ, I-"

"No, Hammy, j-just…no. Just leave. Please."

"RJ-"

"NO!" RJ yelled, turning on him angrily. Hammy stood petrified as the raccoon towered above him, his blue eyes intensely riveted. "Look, I'm glad I met you all, but it's time to move on. I'm not suited for a family life, it's just not my thing. You're better off without me, and I'm better off alone." He began to regret his rash outburst as he backed away slowly from trembling squirrel. "Goodbye, Hammy."

By the time Hammy made it back to the log, he was sobbing uncontrollably.

* * *

RJ ran.

He couldn't let the pain catch up with him. Thoughts and feelings that he had locked away deep within his chest were suddenly pushing forth with an unconquerable force, trying to seize his mind and wring his heart. He plowed through the forest, biting back tears, trying to subdue the muddled emotions of anger, hurt, and confusion that ate at him.

He hated himself for believing he could ever fit into a family, ever settle in a home, ever try to love. He felt stupid. All those songs about love warned of heartbreak and rejection, yet he had been stupid enough to try it anyway. And now he was facing the consequences.

It was a pain worse than the achy loneliness he was so familiar with. At least before he had hopes of one day belonging, of being understood and loved by those he cared about. But now that was gone. All that was left was an empty pit in the left side of his chest. That hurt. A lot.

RJ tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he took in his surroundings. He was out of the forest now, standing beside a highway. Rubbing a paw over his eyes, he checked for cars. It was getting dark now, and he could see the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. Waiting until it passed, RJ crossed the road and continued his excursion.

RJ was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice the milieu. He knew the way well, so he didn't make any stops to navigate. He didn't even stay to engage in his usual habit of rummaging through the picnic area for leftovers. He just ran until he couldn't run anymore.

It was completely dark by the time he began to detect a repulsively rancid odor, telling him he was nearing his destination. RJ grimaced; the dump smelled worse than he had remembered it, and he realized that he must have become so used to it before that he had grown accustomed to it. RJ approached a 6-foot tall chain linked fence that had a few strands of barbed-wire at the top. Walking alongside the fence a few yards, the raccoon came to a section where the dirt under the fence had been clawed away. Pushing his bag under first, RJ began to squeeze his own body through the hole. He must have eaten well the past few weeks, for he found himself struggling to do what usually came easily. Grunting, RJ thrust himself forward, pushing through the fence with his arms.

Falling forward suddenly, RJ picked himself up and dusted his fur off. As he slung the golf bag over his shoulder, he gazed up at the mountain of dirt before him. An eerie feeling of dread overcame him. He was back to his old life. The raccoon hung his head in silence. He had been so close to attaining the unkown desires of his heart, only to have them slip away, so easily. Cursing under his breath, RJ braced himself for the climb up the giant wall of dirt.

When he finally reached the top, the wave of stench was overpowering. Gagging a little, RJ clutched his nose tightly as he scanned the darkness around him. Some ways below him was an expansive pit that he knew was full of discarded human junk. Far off in the distance, lighting bolts danced in the corners of the sky. Rain was probably in the week's forcast.

RJ slid down the mound of silt and let his eyes adjust. Avoiding piles of rusty cans, tires, and other debris, RJ made his way towards a large object protruding from a pile of trash. It was a car, its make and model indestinguishable and its windows busted. Crawling in through one of its windows, RJ searched the inside before dropping onto the cold leather of the driver's seat. He threw off his backpack, reclined the chair, and then reached under the seat. Finding nothing, RJ pulled back his hand in confusion. "Where did I...? Ah!" RJ found the stash of newspapers scattered on the backseat. Grabbing a few, RJ straitened them out before laying them over his body.

Then reality sunk in. He was alone again. There was no one to wish goodnight. No other body to give warmth. No sound but his own breath. No one to greet in the morning. Nothing to wake to but hunger.

RJ bit back threatening tears.

He was alone again.

Or so he thought.

RJ did not notice three pairs of eyes watching him carefully. In what he thought to be the dark secret of the car, RJ finally let his tears fall.

* * *

"You told him _what_?"

Verne shifted uncomfortably. He knew that this was coming, but that didn't make it any easier.

"I said that if he's not going to change, then it would be better for us all if he just left."

Those words that had seemed so sound before now sounded so cold, so cruel. Verne felt Stella's harsh glare as he stared numbly at the ground. Hammy's strangled sobs filled the air as the hedgies watched Verne dumbfounded.

"What were you thinkin'?"

Verne didn't know. It had all been a blur. He had said so many stupid, insensitive things. It had all gone horribly wrong.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean for it to turn out the way it did." An apology was no good now, and he knew it. But what else could he possibly do or say to make up for the damage done?

No one else really knew what to do. Stella had one arm crossed over her chest as the other held up her forehead. Tiger placed a paw on her shoulder, looking perplexed and concerned. Ozzie grasped his daughter's hand as both stood with mouths agape. Penny held a paw over her mouth as Lou placed a comforting paw around her. The porcupine kids just stood with eyes wide as tears began to form. Hammy's sobs could be heard from a tree nearby.

Hammy had been the one who brought the news that RJ was gone. The family was appalled, and Stella had immediately begun to press Verne for answers. Verne had given them reluctantly, guilt building at every word he confessed.

"So you're sorry, huh?" Stella finally said. "Well let me tell you, if he ain't back by tomorrow, yo _gonna_ be sorry."

* * *

**I'M SO SORRY!**

**I kept ya'll waiting FAR TOO LONG. What's my alibi? The past two weeks were CRAZY. First I was forced through _hell_. Oh, torture of tortures!*dramatic pose of horror* ...aaaand now I'm somewhere between the state of euphoria and Texas. In the process, I've either gained 3 levels of maturity or lost 5 levels of innocence. Life is weird.  
**

**Anyway, after writing and re-writing this chapter, and then re-writing again, I have finally resigned to the fact that I should just put this up. I figured that if it was so bad that someone would complain, then fine, at least I would know what to fix. But after editing it so many times, it's like I'm either blind or numb to any mistakes, and I can't tell if it flows well or even makes any sense. So if you got any complaints or suggestions, I'm all ears. Or, eh, eyes. Okay now, I'm gonna get some sleep.**


	5. Harbinger

**-FIVE-**

**Harbinger**

* * *

Verne's dreams had returned.

They were all in the forest again, and Verne was leading them on the same path his dreams always took them. It was the same as his other dreams, only RJ wasn't there.

The hedgies walked until they reached a clearing that Verne recognized as the same spot that RJ would urge them to hide in all his previous dreams. Verne halted.

"Why are we stopping?" Lou asked.

Before Verne could answer, a huge mass of fur crashed through the shrubs with a deafening roar. Verne tried to scream, but no sound came out; he tried to run, but his legs weren't taking him anywhere. All he could do was size up the huge bear before him.

"Vincent!" he gasped.

Vincent smirked, his eyes and teeth gleaming. "Why, hello there. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Verne's mouth went dry. "Wha... what is it you want?

"Revenge." The one-word reply spoke volumes.

"But I thought your dispute was with RJ..."

"Sure, but you're his 'family'," the bear replied, placing emphasis on the last word. "He wouldn't have turned against me if it weren't for you." The turtle tensed as the bear reach out and snatched one of his family members.

"Heather!" Verne heard Ozzie gasp as Vincent smirked at the frightened young possum in his grasp.

"Put her down! RJ's not with us anymore!" Verne heard himself blurt out. Vincent paused, considering what Verne had said.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Verne had to do something, anything, to protect them, to protect Heather. "RJ is not a part of our family anymore. We have nothing to do with him or any of his problems!"

Verne could feel the eyes upon him as he watched Vincent release Heather.

"Is that so?" The corners of Vincent's mouth curled upwards viciously as he shifted his gazed to the shadows behind him. "Did you hear that RJ? They won't associate themselves with you anymore. You were right about them giving up on you."

Verne's eyes followed the faint sound of a low moan from the dark. The turtle could barely make out the figure of a small, mangled heap of fur, which he realized was RJ. He fought to stay composed, not to show any sign of caring.

"We didn't leave him, he left us!"

RJ opened his eyes weakly.

"So you still care about him?" All eyes were upon him now.

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean, I... I..." Verne stumbled on his words as Vincent laughed, his laughter everywhere, ringing through his head. His family or RJ?

"I..."

His family glared at him angrily. RJ shut his eyes slowly, Vincent laughing madly.

"I..."

Everyone was closing in on him, his dream fading away.

"I..."

"..."

The last fog of his dreams disappeared and Verne found himself back in the hollowed-out log with a beam of sunshine on his face. He blinked slowly, realizing by the ray of light and the absence of his family that he must have slept much later than usual. Verne groaned; dreams of these sort haunted him night after night once RJ had left, stealing his sleep. Originally, they had portrayed RJ as the one at fault, but eventually the dreams evolved to the point that Verne began to feel guilty.

_Even my dreams are turned agianst me now. _Verne tried to shake off his negative feelings as he braced himself to face the day. The cold stares weren't just a figment of his unrestrained imagination; they had become hard reality. None of the others had done it while they thought he would notice, but Verne was very much aware of the constant glances behind his back. Some were angry, some sad, some expectant, but they all meant the same thing. They wanted RJ back, and they wanted Verne to make it happen.

But Verne was not ready. This had all been at least partially RJ's fault, and yet everyone was treating him like it was his fault RJ was gone. Well, it wasn't his fault. What he had said to RJ was for his own good, as well as the good of the family. Sure, he hadn't meant for it to go the way it did, but he couldn't change that now. If RJ had taken it the wrong way, then too bad. If he couldn't change for the benefit of others, then he deserved to be on his own.

Verne forced his thoughts and conscious into submission and stepped out of the log.

His eyes adjusted to the noonday sun as he took inventory of his family. There was a gloomy undertone in all of their activity despite the beautiful day and well-stocked log. Stella was watching TV pensively with Penny, who looked like she was desperately trying not to succumb to her motherly instincts to talk to her. Ozzie, Lou, and Tiger were having a conversation (Verne couldn't hear what it was about), and Heather was watching the clouds idly. Even the kids were playing their video games with less enthusiasm. The only one Verne couldn't see was Hammy, but he already had a good idea of where the squirrel was; probably in a tree crying silently or searching the forest for RJ.

There was a sudden hush in all conversation as the others noticed the box turtle.

"You know, we were fine before without RJ," Verne said, voicing his thoughts aloud. No one even looked at him. "We've got plenty of food, we're all safe here...we don't have a thing to worry about."

Stella spoke up without taking her eyes off the TV screen. "Not all of us."

'Not all of us?' Who...oh, right, RJ. They still considered him family.

"Look guys, I know you all are going to miss him; I'm sad to see him go too. But he just wasn't meant to be a part of this family! He hasn't had any experience in a family... he's the lone wolf type. All he brought to the family was his own problems that were endangering all of our lives. I...I don't want to see you guys hurt because of him, so I guess we're better off without him," he ended somewhat awkwardly.

There, he had said it. Now he watched to see their reactions.

Stella looked like she was trying not to explode. Her whole body shook with anger. With her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth clenched, she gripped the TV remote tightly in one hand. Penny was watching her efforts at self-control with concern. Unable to conquer her own anger, the temper erupted.

"YOU JUST DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?" Verne flinched. This was not going to end well. "HOW COULD YOU...RRRRAAAAUGH!" Stella grumbled in frustration and threw down the remote controller in her hand. She jumped out of her seat and marched right up to Verne.

"Look, I don't know what yo problem is with him, but you need to get over yourself. So he brought a coupl'a problems with him? Fine! You seem to have forgotten that you weren't exactly top-notch yo' self when we all started. That's why we became a family in the first place: so we could solve our individual problems as a team! RJ's got issues like any of us, but that's never stopped you from accepting any of us as family members before! So why are all of the sudden discriminating against him?"

Verne was stunned from the onslaught of words; he had no idea how to refute her arguments. "I...don't know."

Stell raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Well you'd better figure it out soon, cuz yo gonna be the one to bring him back."

Verne rubbed the back of his neck, watching Stella walk away. "Look, I didn't mean it that way. Like I said before, I'm sorry. I just... I hope it's not too late." It had been a week now and RJ had not come back on his own. "I'm going to need time to think about this."

Stella turned and Verne swore he saw a little smile. "Well hurry up."

* * *

RJ woke in a daze. His mind felt foggy and his body ached. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and the circles under his eyes weighed down on his face. It took a minute for him to remember where he was. As it all started coming back to him, he let out a long, wavering sigh. The bitterness in all his features disappeared as he put on a mask of apathy. It was time to move on.

The raccoon folded up the newspapers and tucked them under his seat. He grabbed his bag from the passenger's seat and hung it over his back.

RJ climbed out of the rusted car and surveyed the junkyard. The morning sun glinted off the mounds of trash, which RJ promptly began to pick through.

Foraging for food in a dump yard was usually a long tedious process in which some days produced more findings than others. RJ had reasoned that, since it had been almost a month since he last visited, there would plenty of food. However, after hours of careful searching, all RJ had come up with was a half-eaten can of Spam, which he had finished off reluctantly. Either someone else had been foraging in his stead, or the humans had stopped using the waste site. RJ didn't have long to think about it, because all of the sudden he spotted something that made his jaw drop.

Lying in a heap of garbage was an unopened box of Twinkies. RJ couldn't believe his luck. Eagerly he ran towards it and peered inside. Eight perfectly good Twinkies sat neatly wrapped in the box. Well, almost perfectly good. They were well past the expiration date, but that didn't matter to RJ. As far as he was concerned, the little golden snack cakes were imperishable.

Grinning with excitement, RJ unwrapped the first one and brought it to his mouth, when he noticed from the corner of his eye a large shadow flying straight for him. Instinctively, the raccoon covered his head and ducked. The winged creature snatched the Twinkie from RJ's paws, and landed several yards away.

"Give that back!" RJ shouted, flinging a stone a the black bird. The raven easily avoided the missile and proceeded to eat the Twinkie as it watched RJ with bright, yellow eyes. Rj watched with horror as it scarfed the cake.

"Thanks for that," the raven smirked, licking the cream filling off his beak. He preened his shimmery black feathers.

"Ray?" RJ said in recognition.

"Hello, Skinny," Ray replied, eyes twinkling. "It's been awhile."

"The name's RJ, and I don't appreciate you taking my food."

The raven cackled. "Whatchya gonna do about it?"

Before RJ could reply, he felt the box of Twinkies by his side being pulled away. Infuriated, RJ turned to face a raccoon that was twice his size in height and girth dumping the contents of the box onto the ground.

"No!" RJ shouted, reaching for his precious food. The larger raccoon simply held RJ back with one arm as he tasted a cake. "Mmm, good find," the overweight coon mumbled as he chewed. The raven flew over and began to devour a second Twinkie.

"Nonononono! That's mine! Get your own food!"

The husky, gray-furred raccoon gave RJ a puzzled look. "What's the matter, Skinny?" He asked, his mouth crammed full of cake and cream filling as he held RJ at arms length.

"What's the matter? I've finally found something decent to eat, and a couple of fat-faced hair-brained idiots think they can just take what little I've got and stuff their stupid faces!"

"Fat-faced hair-brained idiots, hmm?" A third voice purred nonchalantly. "That's a bit of a harsh name to call your benefactors." The voice belonged to a long, slender-bodied weasel with ginger-brown fur and yellowish white belly fur that he stroked as he met RJ's gaze.

RJ glared right back into the weasel's shining black eyes. "Benefactors? Yeah right. More like bullies." The raccoon held his gaze as the raven cawed boisterously.

"Haw haw haw! Bullies, eh? I bet he fancies these delectable little treats his!"

RJ didn't break the weasel's gaze as he retorted. "They are mine, and I'm not going to let a bunch of jerks take them." At this, the raven guffawed all the louder as the weasel drew an eyebrow up.

"It appears that you have forgotten how greatly indebted to us you are. You owe us three winters worth of food in return for the three years we took you under wing out of the goodness of our hearts." The reminder caused RJ's head to spin. Three winter's worth of food? That was impossible!

"Out of the goodness of your hearts? _Please._ If that were true, you wouldn't be nagging me to repay you. And besides that, the amount of food it takes to feed a young kit for three years is nowhere near the amount of food it'll take me to feed three adult animals for three winters. It took almost nothing for you guys to keep me from starving as a kit, and yet you expect me to make the impossible feat of collecting such a huge amount of food for you without starving myself to death in the process? I don't think so. Now give me back my box of Twinkies before I _make_ you."

At this the raven hooted and hawed uncontrollably as he flapped his wings and flitted about. "Haw! Haw! Haw! Skinny recons he can take us on! Haw! Such drollery, eh, Shane? Why, Larry here's twice his size! Go on, Skinny! Make me return the Twinkies!"

The bird snatched a packet in his beak and flew to the top of the trash mound, where he began to open the wrapper as he crooned triumphantly and strutted about tauntingly. RJ whipped out his boomerang and flung it at the raven, who avoided it easily. It missed again as it returned, but as Ray opened his beak to jeer, a pebble from RJ's slingshot struck him squarely on the chin, sending him and the Twinkie tumbling down the mound unconscious.

As RJ returned his tools to his bag, Larry charged the smaller raccoon. RJ sidestepped the attack, causing the heavier raccoon to trip and fall from his own momentum.

RJ swiftly collected the remaining Twinkies and shoved them in his bag, Shane doing nothing to stop him as he watched with slight amusement. "You do know that if you will not listen to us, we have other means of enforcement."

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" RJ inquired, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, nothing. Just a very large and powerful bear you have dealt with on occasion." The weasel looked very smug, but his smile quickly faded when the raccoon began to laugh.

"Oh, you mean Vincent? For your information, Vincent is currently several hundred miles away caged up in the Rocky Mountains. That's not exactly a code red threat. Sorry to steal your thunder, but I have more serious business to deal with today than empty threats." With that, RJ strolled off as Shane watched him leave, his face devoid of expression.

"Di... did he just say Vincent was...?" Larry stuttered, his voice trailing off. Ray was slowly regaining consciousness.

"Yes, you clumsy addled-headed oaf," Shane snapped. He was not often on the receiving end of sarcastic comments, and the cocksure way that RJ had asserted that Vincent wasn't a threat made him irritable. How the blazes did Vincent end up in the Rocky Mountains? No matter. That only delayed things. Slowly, his features twisted into a sly smile.

"But we'll see about that."

* * *

**AWRIGHT, more reviews! :3 ****Since I can't reply to non-member reviews by PM, I'll do it here.**

**Orca: I'm glad you found my story and are enjoying it! I'm glad there are still OTH fans around. Thanks for taking the time to review my story! **

**On a side note, Shane, Ray, and Larry are my idea, but you're more ****than welcome to use them in your own fic if you ask first and credit me.**


	6. Revenge

**-SIX-**

**Revenge**

* * *

RJ didn't know how many days had passed since he saw the dump site trio. They weren't too much of a concern to him, as he didn't put any weight to their threats, but he wondered why they didn't continue to harass him about the debt. Shane wasn't one to give up without a fight, and Ray and Larry would do almost anything to get others to do their work for them. RJ had expected them to pester him about it for much longer than they had.

It was odd, but definitely not his biggest concern at the moment. Right now his parched tongue and aching belly were his immediate priority.

RJ watched the heavy, dark clouds above him with longing. How he wished they would release a shower of cool, wet droplets to relieve his burning throat. He had been tempted to sneak a sip from the pond where the hedgies lived that afternoon, but he dissuaded himself in hopes that it would rain soon. It was much better to rough it a few hours than risk seeing any of them. He had almost completely blocked all thoughts of them; seeing them might break that wall, releasing a torrent of unwanted emotions.

_C'mon clouds, rain already!_

RJ was growing impatient. His ears laid back sourly, but shot back up as a thought struck him. Eagerly, the raccoon began digging through the garbage for something to hold rain water…some kind of bowl, or cup, or-

"Hello RJ."

Time stopped as RJ's body tensed and blood drained from his face. It wasn't… couldn't be…not here…

"What's the matter? Didn't think I'd keep my promise? Or did you honestly think distance could keep us apart?"

RJ's skull buzzed as blood course through his head, causing a numb, tingling sensation. RJ didn't need to look to know who owned that deep, gruff voice. He could hear Vincent's lips form a smile.

"Don't worry. Our time apart gave me plenty of time to plan out my revenge."

RJ felt claws grab his head and bring him eye-level with the bear.

"You're awfully quiet." It was true; RJ was so rigid with fear that he couldn't think of anything even remotely intelligible to say. This just wasn't supposed to be happening.

"That's alright, though. I prefer that you shut up and just let me do the talking." Vincent chuckled, relishing RJ's terrified expression. "This is going to be_ fun_."

Vincent tossed RJ into the air and swung a fist so hard that it sent the raccoon flying several yards away until he crashed into a pile of garbage. Vincent laughed, licking blood off his knuckles as he walked over to the pile. "I've waited a long time for that."

Vincent picked the raccoon up by the scruff of his neck, holding him in place as he raised a paw. The gesture brought RJ's voice back. "Oh my God, Vincent! No! Stop! Stop, please!"

The plea fell on deaf ears; Vincent began to deal a series of blows that knew no bounds. In a futile effort against the bear's brute strength, RJ shot his hands up protectively; but it did nothing to deter the ruthless onslaught. Blow after blow RJ hung helplessly, waiting for it all to end as Vincent's paw rose and fell mercilessly.

Caught up in the thrill of vengeance, Vincent dropped RJ and continued the beat-down with both fists. A scream rose and died in RJ's throat as the bear began tearing at him with his claws. Involuntary tears pooled under RJ's eyelids as his body reacted to the torture. RJ gritted his teeth, wondering if he was about to die

But just when RJ thought he couldn't endure it any longer, Vincent stopped and drew back, panting from his own frenzied exertion. RJ could hear his own breathing… it was ragged and heavy. In some places his fur was wet with his own blood.

"Heh, almost got carried away there. I have to keep you alive so you can watch me kill your family."

"Not…my * koff*…family…anymore," RJ whispered hoarsely.

Vincent looked with disgust at the red substance the raccoon had coughed up. "Eh…what was that?"

RJ's voice quavered as he endeavored to repeat himself, "They're…not my family anymore. I left them."

Vincent blinked. "You… left… them?"

"Yes."

"Ha, let me guess. Loner finds out he's not the family guy. What a surprise. Glad to see you finally decided to listen to me."

"No-"

"Wait, you're not lying to me to protect them, are you? Cause if you try to pull a stunt like that, I'll-"

"No! No no no. I'm not… *koff*…I'm not trying to pull your leg," RJ replied hastily, staving off another attack. "I left them because I…"

"Because what?"

"They…don't trust me," RJ said quietly, casting his eyes downward.

"They don't trust you?" Low rumbles of amusement. "Well, that's no surprise. So they finally saw through your disguise?"

RJ glared at Vincent. "I was being genuine with them."

"Watch your tone," Vincent snarled, kicking the raccoon in the gut. RJ gasped and curled up to ease the pain. "Genuine for you is a lying, thieving, dirt bag. Which are good traits if you're on your own, but lousy if you want friends."

Vincent knelt down next to the prone raccoon. "You know, I find it ironic that you live in a junk yard with all the other discarded and worthless trash. It's very fitting. I was seriously starting to worry for you, disillusioning yourself with such unrealistic hopes. I mean, you in a family? C'mon, life is hard enough without other people screwing things up. Guys like you and me don't need friends; they just tie us down. We need the freedom to live how we want, take what we want, and cut down anything that gets in the way. I'm glad you got to see what families are really like, and get a taste of rejection. Hopefully it'll help you make smarter choices."

Vincent smirked and watched the back of RJ's head as he paused to let his words sink in. "So when did they realize who you really are? I'm curious to know what they had to say."

RJ was silent, except for the whistling sound of difficult breathing. Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Why aren't you answering me?"

"I can't breathe, you idiot!" RJ yelled suddenly. His eyes burned with hate, but that quickly diminished as he realized the rashness of his outburst. Stupid move. Stupid, stupid, idiotic move.

"I see you still have some fight left in you," Vincent chimed in an unsettling manner, drawing himself up to his full height. He walked over to RJ's bag and selected a golf club, testing it against his palm. "That's nothing I can't fix."

"No, Vincent, please! No!" RJ pleaded frantically, eyes wide and hand out-stretched.

"Wow. You don't even have enough dignity to take a beating without begging for mercy like some gutless idiot."

Vincent raised the golf club high in the air. RJ shut his eyes tightly. The club fell. Hard. RJ let out a cry. The club rose again, and fell. Again and again. Pain. Fear. RJ released a strangled sob.

"Huh. You think this is bad? This is nothing compared to what I'll do to you if you steal from me again."

_Stop. Just __stop__._

The grey clouds over head rumbled. Vincent paused and glanced at the sky. "You're lucky I hate getting caught in the rain," Vincent mumbled. "I'm going to let you lie here and dwell on just how helpless you are. No family to protect you, no friends to help you, just you and a large debt to pay." With every word, Vincent hit RJ harder and harder. "Nowhere to run, no place to hide. If you so much as talk to the others again, I will know that you were lying to me and I won't hesitate to kill them. Either you're going to get enough food to replace what you've stolen from me, or I'm going to kill you." Vincent gave one final swing, and then tossed the club aside. "And trust me, you don't want to pick the latter."

RJ watched Vincent leave through the one eye that wasn't swollen. He really didn't have much of a choice but to lay there; his whole body was racked with bruises and gashes. It would be awhile before he could get up.

Slowly, the wind picked up, weaving through the raccoon's fur. The sky steadily grew darker, occasional flashes of light coursing through the sky. Rain began to fall, mingling with the streams already falling from RJ's face.

Rain and wind soaked through RJ's fur, stealing his body heat. RJ shivered and curled up tighter as the rain started falling heavier, clanking off of metal scraps and aluminum cans.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Verne started at the crash of lightning. Rain drummed against the hollow log as his family breathed rhythmically in their slumber. It was very warm and snug because everyone, even Tiger and the opossums, had decided to sleep in the log to stay dry. Everyone seemed to be sleeping soundly but him.

It wasn't the lightning keeping Verne awake, but his tingling tail. Something was definitely amiss at the rate his tail was going, but Verne didn't know whether his it own guilt or some external thing that was causing his tail to prickle so uncomfortably. Verne stood up and gazed out the entrance of the log, wondering if RJ had found somewhere dry to sleep that night. _Of course he has…he's RJ. Probably found someplace to sleep way more dry and cozy than this. _

But in spite of his inner dialogue, Verne couldn't shake off the feeling that RJ was in some kind of trouble. He felt terrible that he was the reason RJ wasn't sleeping with everyone in the log, safe, warm, and content.

As Verne turned to return to his spot, he noticed two eyes watching him. They belonged to Hammy. It was the first night in a week that the little squirrel chose to sleep with everyone else, his fear of lightning being his main motivation. Now, unable to sleep with the crashing thunder, he sat vigilant, staring at Verne. Unspoken words passed between the two as Verne met the squirrel's gaze.

"Tomorrow we're going to find RJ," Verne said, quietly but resolutely.

Hammy was satisfied; he crawled over and curled up next to the turtle and soon fell asleep.

_I just hope it's not too late._

_

* * *

_

**I hope you are all having a better day than RJ. :s**

**Gothic princess: Believe me, I'm thankful OTH fans are still around too. I actually only saw the movie recently, like a month or two ago, so it was kind of a gamble getting on here and writing a fanfiction for a fandom that was possibly dead. Glad to see that that isn't the case, and that in spite of being 4 years late, I still have an audience who can enjoy my little story. Every time I get a notice from FF that my story got another review, I jump up and do a victory dance. Complete with whooping and hollering. True story.**

**Chicky: Glad you like it! I'm planning on 15 or so chapters, take some give some.**


	7. Aftermath

**-SEVEN-**

**Aftermath**

* * *

"Is...is he…alive?"

"Yes, you idiot. If he was dead, he couldn't pay up."

"Oh, right."

The weasel rolled his eyes as the portly raccoon timidly stretched out a paw and poked the smaller half-dead raccoon. "He twitched…that's a good sign, right?"

"I don't know. Why don't you kick him and see if he kicks back?"

The raccoon gave a puzzled look. "But if I-"

"Ugh, never mind. I forgot sarcasm only makes you stupider," Shane grumbled. "Just help me get this on him." The weasel held out a white nylon collar that had a strange box and a radio antenna protruding from one side.

"What's that?"

"Didn't you hear any of our conversation with Vincent?"

"Uh, well-"

"It's a tracking collar. People use it to keep tabs on certain animals. Vincent is going to use it to keep track of Skinny here and make sure he don't run away. Don't know if you got any of that, but I hope that it at least didn't make you any stupider."

Larry didn't understand, but Shane's sharp glare advised him that it was best to just keep quiet and help wrestle the strange device over RJ's head. Larry did so meekly, watching Shane's face as he became increasingly frustrated as they failed to fasten the collar.

"Aaagh!" Shane snarled, stomping his foot. "Ray, get over hear an' help!"

The black bird paused in his rounds and preened his wing thoughtfully. "Why should I? I'm quite content standing guard."

This did not improve the weasel's mood. "Cause if you don't, I'll wring your sorry little neck!"

"Hah, that wouldn't work, because I can just fly away! Hah!" The bird cackled, proving his point by flying circles around his cohort. "However, I may be inspired to help if I get control of the remote this week."

Shane opened his mouth in protest, but shut it again. Getting on Vincent's bad side was on his never-do list, and failure to complete this little task certainly wouldn't bode well for him. "A whole week?"

"Every blissful second of it!"

"Fine," Shane snapped.

"Oohoo hoo hoo!" Ray crooned, flying a circle in the air before landing next to RJ. "Cripes, what did ol' Vince do to him, stick him through a blender?"

"I dunno, that ain't any of our business. As long as he can walk, his health is no concern to us."

"Looks to me like he'll have trouble even doing that," the raven commented as he fidgeted with the collar. Using his beak as a tool, Ray tinkered with the collar until a small 'click' affirmed that the collar was fastened. Ray stepped back as Shane examined his work.

Shane was impressed; although Ray was usually nothing short of an airhead, sometimes he could prove himself quite indispensable. Outwardly, Shane's only sign of approval was a small nod. "Alright, phase one of our mission is complete. Next: phase two."

"I never would have guessed that," Ray chirped.

"Wait… what's phase two?" Larry asked, scratching his head.

Shane messaged his temples jadedly. "Just shut up and pull."

* * *

Everything was black, and RJ felt nothing. Silence cloaked his mind and stifled his thoughts. RJ was completely unaware of anything as he passed through different stages of unconsciousness.

Gradually, he could feel his chest rise and fall in breathing, and hear the steady beat of his heart pounding through his head. Light found it way through his eyelids, brightening the darkness. RJ began to sense the cold, flat ground beneath him.

All of the sudden, his mind was overloaded with messages of pain from his body. Memories of the night before flashed in front of his eyes, and RJ cried out as in if he had awakened from a nightmare; only, the nightmare didn't fade upon his awakening.

A lump rose in his throat as despair crept upon him. He had lost everything. Everything, it seemed, but the guilt and debt. RJ wanted to fade away into the state of unconsciousness again, where pain and sorrow couldn't follow; but the excruciating pain kept him firmly rooted in reality.

RJ slowly opened his eyes. One eye remained swollen shut, but the other opened just enough to observe his vaguely familiar surroundings. He had expected to see the sky, but instead he saw cavernous, scraggy walls around him. The atmosphere smelled very familiar, too. There was a light, salty smell that reminded him of a can of Spuddies when the lid first pops off, and a second distinct, musty odor that could only belong to-

"Vincent!" RJ gasped, his heart rate accelerating. He was in Vincent's cave, staring at the back wall in the spot the bear usually slept. RJ panicked- he had no idea how or when he got there, but he knew he was in the worst possible place on earth, and that he had to escape immediately.

RJ rolled on to his stomach, grimacing at his smarting injuries. His eyes widened as he raised his head, realizing that he wasn't alone. RJ hastily dodged behind a sizable rock, hoping Vincent hadn't noticed him. RJ barely dared to breathe as he crouched, the corners of his mouth drawn back tightly in agitation.

RJ gripped his neck impulsively and found, to his surprise, that something was fastened around his throat. RJ fingered the foreign object gingerly, imagining it was something like the collars humans forced their pets to wear; only it had some kind of boxy gadget stuck to the back with an antenna sticking out. Whatever it was, RJ didn't like it.

Tugging on the collar proved fruitless; no matter how hard he pulled and fidgeted with it, he couldn't pull it over his head. The worst part was that he couldn't feel or see any button or lock that would release the collar; although raccoons were skilled at getting into or out of even the most secure of human contraptions, he had no idea how to unlock a collar with no lock.

Just as RJ was about to give up, the collar started making strange static-y noises, followed by a long, sharp _bleep!_RJ froze, watching the Vincent's shadow grow larger and larger on the wall in front of him. Fear gripped RJ's mind. _No…no, please no, not again…_

"Boo."

RJ fell back with a cry, more horrified than surprised to see the bear's head poking out from behind the rock. Vincent laughed as the raccoon scrambled to back away from him.

"Give it a rest, RJ. I'm done venting frustration; besides, anymore would probably kill you, and that wouldn't be any good, would it?"

"N-no."

"Hmm, well, that's debatable. Now, on to business. Today you will begin paying off your considerable debt. I want everything down to the last Spuddie back, and you have a week."

"A week!"

"Yes, just like before. If you don't have it done by then, you can say goodbye to your former family. If you still don't have it all by two weeks, your debt is doubled. If not by three weeks, it will be tripled. Four- well, I think you get the point. If you don't pay it off, you will pretty much be enslaved to it for the rest of your life."

"Bu- ….how…?"

"What about our part of the deal?" RJ turned his head to see Shane and his little gang standing at the entrance to the cave. "We didn't bring him here for nothing." So they had been a part of this?

"Oh, yes," Vincent said, acknowledging the weasel. "On top of that, you have to pay off whatever you owe these goons."

"But there's no way I can get that much food! I'll starve!"

"Starve, or live your whole life enslaved to debt. It's your choice," Vincent said, shrugging. "After all, it was your choice to steal from me in the first place."

RJ's eye's darted from Vincent to Shane pleadingly.

"And to make sure you play by the rules, I had Shane put that nifty little collar on you. It contains a tracking device that sends signals to this contraption," Vincent said, holding up a black box with a green screen and long antenna sticking out of the top. "The collar you're wearing sends a signal to this device every few minutes, and it shows up as a little dot on the screen, showing your precise location. The humans used it to keep track of me in the Rockies; I'll use it to make sure you don't run away or go out-of-bounds."

RJ was barely catching anything Vincent was saying, his mind was so caught up in the sheer amount of food he would have to acquire in a week and the penalties if he failed. It was impossible-he had no one to help, no time, no idea where to start, and his body was in no condition to be moving about Suburbia.

Everything became a slow-motion blur; Vincent was saying things, Shane and the others were arguing, telling him something, but RJ couldn't comprehend any of it. He didn't remember when he left, or how he climbed down the steep slope from Vincent's cave. He didn't remember feeling any pain, or how long he had wandered until he ended up in a human picnic area. It was as in if he was in a dream, and everything was an illusion just passing by.

The sight of litter next to a trash barrel snapped him out of his trance. Walking a few steps aimlessly, RJ finally broke down. Falling to his knees, RJ felt an overwhelming sense of despair. It seemed as if he would be stuck in this vicious cycle of pain and sorrow forever, all because of one little mistake.

"RJ?"

RJ's ear pricked up at the sound of a voice he had grown accustomed to the past few weeks.

* * *

Verne's sense of relief was quickly replaced with shock.

He and the hedgies had been searching for RJ all day, looking everywhere that they could think of for their friend. When no one was successful in finding RJ, a sense of hopelessness came over the group. Desperate to find RJ and make amends in private, Verne had left the group to follow a hunch that led him to a picnic area. He had rehearsed his apology over and over again in his head, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Verne barely recognized the raccoon. His usually well-groomed fur was tousled and dirty, and he wore a strange white collar around his neck. His little black paws were clenched tightly and his shoulders hunched over. But what Verne found the most disturbing in RJ's appearance was the large welts and blood-matted spots of fur. Verne could only imagine what had happened to RJ in the week he was gone.

"RJ?" Verne voiced, his tone giving away his concern.

The raccoon's head turned slowly. Verne's heart sank at the expression on his face. RJ's right eyelid drooped with a nasty, dark bruise, and Verne swore water pooled under his eyes. But beneath his forlorn expression, Verne could sense a deep resentment directed towards him.

Verne's tongue was tied. He had so much to say, so much to ask, but all that came out was an awkward, "You don't look so good." Verne could've slapped himself.

"You aren't so aesthetically pleasing yourself."

Verne smiled a little. At least RJ hadn't lost his wry sense of humor. "RJ, what happened? Are-"

"Go."

"…huh?'

"Go away."

"But RJ, I just want to help! I'm sorry for what said before, I never meant-"

"If you want to help, then leave before you make things worse."

Verne sighed. How much had RJ been affected by his careless words? "RJ, I'm here to bring you back. Your family misses you, and-"

"For God sakes, Verne go!" RJ suddenly shouted. Verne stepped back in surprise. "Vincent is back, and if you care anything about your family and well-being, don't let yourself be seen with me. He will kill you, all of you, if he thinks that you're still with me!"

Verne was dumbfounded. Vincent was back? How was that even possible? Realization dawned on Verne as he connected Vincent's return with RJ's injuries.

"RJ… what did he do to you?"

RJ looked away. "That doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. Let me see." As Verne drew closer, RJ backed away. "RJ, no one is going to see us here. If you're so concerned, we can hide in those bushes."

RJ hesitated to follow, but knowing he couldn't shake Verne off any other way, he complied.

"Seriously Verne, you need to leave! A shrub won't keep Vincent from finding us. And if Vincent sees us, he'll think I'm still a part of your family and kill you!"

"You are still a part of our family, whether that puts us all in danger or not. Now hold still." RJ did hold still, though not because of the command. Verne had spoken the first encouraging words RJ had heard in a long time, and they stunned him.

Verne examined the gashes on RJ's body, mentally affirming that they where caused by bear claws. The deepest one was across RJ's chest, where the wound had not yet sealed itself, staining the white hair around it a bright shade of red. Parting RJ's fur to see the bruised skin underneath, Verne wondered what acts of violence caused the numerous welts all over RJ's body. "RJ, these are serious wounds. They need to be treated."

RJ pulled away. "There isn't any time for that. I have to collect enough food to pay off Vincent within a week."

"You can't do that with these injuries! You need help."

"I can't do it period. You guys need to leave. Vincent threatened to kill you all if I didn't get all the food in time. I will probably die eventually either way; hopefully these injuries will hasten it. But if you guys die because of me I...I don't think I could bear it."

Verne watched RJ sadly. RJ was usually so bold and creative, brimming with the ideas to solve any problem. Now he was at the end of his line, expecting nothing but the worst. What had Vincent done and said to bring his friend so low? Verne felt a pang of guilt, wondering if he was part of the reason for RJ's disheartenment.

"RJ, we're not going anywhere. We've managed to get out of tough situations before, and we'll find a way out of this. I'll do the worrying; you go find something to eat, and most importantly, rest. I'm going to get the others and see if we can figure out a way out of this."

* * *

**Scientist will often put tracking devices on certain animals to watch migratory patterns or simply to keep track of where the animal is. I would assume they put one on Vincent before releasing him into the Rockies to see how well he would take to his new enviornment. Of course, once Vincent caught on he realized he could use the technology to make sure RJ could never hide from him... and so he stole a GPS and put his tracking collar on RJ. Apparently, this isn't the first time a bear's put it's collar on another animal...just google "****Mountain Goat Black Bear Collar Swap****" to see what I mean.**

**Wow, look at all the reviews! I'm delighted, folks. Some of you had questions, which I will answer here.**

**Cool dude: I think I hinted somewhere in chapter 1 that this story is set around two weeks after the movie.**

**Sugar Mouse: RJ's age, huh? Well, considering most raccoons live about 5 years in the wild, I'd say he's probably one or two. Joking aside, I personally imagine him to be anywhere from 17 to 21, but it's pretty open to interpretation.**

**Princess Shania: A 'loofah' (also l****uffa****, or ****lufah) is basically a plant sponge used for a variety of things, from the soles of beach sandals to kitchen and bath sponges. In this instance, it is a bath sponge with a handle for those hard-to-reach areas. My including a loofah in the story is a nod to an on going gag in the Over the Hedge comic, where Verne attempts to combat his mildew issues with a loofah..**

**Ray (the bird) and the others refer to RJ as 'Skinny' because, well, have you ever seen a raccoon in the wild before? They're usually GIMONGOUS. RJ is much less weighty than most procyons, and Ray points it out in a derogatory way. So basically, they call him 'Skinny' because they're jerks and it annoys him.**


	8. Healing

**-EIGHT-**

**Healing**

* * *

Submitting to his fate would be so much easier if they weren't involved. They shouldn't be there. He had left them, and it all should have ended right then and there. Why did Verne have to make things so complicated? Why did_ he _have to make things so complicated? None of this should matter to him. He shouldn't care the least bit about what happened to them anymore. The link should be severed… so why was it so hard to just let them die?

RJ's heart was heavy as he watched Verne walk away. RJ just wanted all of it to end… the pain, the anxiety, the drama. He wished for the simpler, happier moments, when he was part of a family, surrounded by those he cared about and who cared for him back …and food.

The emptiness in his stomach was a painful reminder that he had had little to eat the past few days. RJ placed a paw over his middle as he peered out of the bush, trying to decide his next course of action.

Verne had suggested rest, but RJ doubted he would be able to sleep anytime soon. The angry hunger pangs from his middle needed to be silenced first.

RJ felt for the strap across his chest, but was startled to find nothing there.

Alarmed, RJ scanned the forest floor. Where was his bag?

RJ's mind turned frantically, trying to remember where his bag had been during all the previous events. He couldn't be without it; all his tools and dearest possessions where in it. Ever since he could remember, he had hauled his stuff around in that handy little navy bag, ready to face any trouble he might meet. There was always something in that bag that would fix any problem, and he had learned to trust in its constant aid. Without it, RJ felt a strange sense of vulnerability.

After mulling over all the places his bag could be, RJ realized the bag must still be lying near the spot he last left it at the dump. RJ groaned; the last thing he wanted to do right now was walk all the way back to the dump-site. His body felt so weak that the mere thought of such a trek made him feel dizzy.

In fact, he didn't just feel dizzy, he _was _dizzy. RJ clumsily sat down and rubbed his eyes. When the pressure in his head and the spinning sensation did not subside, RJ laid back and let his eyelids fall shut. He was so much more tired than he had realized, and it seemed his body was forcing a shut down. Reluctantly, RJ let his mind wander as he drift off to sleep.

* * *

Verne dreaded meeting with the rest of the family now. What would he say? He certainly couldn't tell them RJ's true condition… at least not with Hammy or the young ones around. Verne slowed in his gait as he thought about the horrible injuries his friend had sustained, wondering what would have provoked Vincent to use such violence. RJ had warned him of the danger to his family if they were caught helping him in any way, and Verne wondered if he was making the right choice. Was he needlessly putting his family in harm's way? Verne began to think back on his dreams where he had been made to make a choice between RJ and his family, feeling a similar situation at the moment. He didn't want to have to make a choice between the two.

But recalling how desperate and uncharacteristically helpless RJ had been strengthened his resolve. He had to help RJ. If he didn't, who would? Yes, he would definitely help RJ out, even if it meant his life would be in danger. But he would need to find a way to do so without risking his family's safety.

Verne made his way around a row of brush and out into a familiar clearing. The sun was low in the sky, and it's parting amber yellow beams lay softly over the surface of the pond. Dragonflies wove in and out of the hanging leaves of willow trees, and small flowers hidden in the grass began to close their petals in preparation for the night. Verne gazed upon the peaceful scene as many thoughts passed through his mind. Sighing softly, Verne turned his eyes away and continued towards the large hollow log in the center of the clearing.

Hammy sighted Verne from the branch of a nearby tree, and clambered down to greet him.

"Did you find him?" Hammy asked, clutching his paws tightly together.

"Yes, but-"

Verne didn't finish his sentence before Hammy began whooping and hollering. "Omigosh! Verne's found RJ! Guys!"

"Wait, Hammy, I—!"

But it was too late. Hammy shot off to share the good news. Soon the whole hedge gang was back at the log, short of breath and eager to see their missing friend.

"Well where is he?" Stella asked, looking around.

Ozzie was the next to come crashing through the bushes, followed by Heather. "Yes, where is the long-lost prodigal? His parting has caused us much grief and heartache!" the possum declared, throwing his arms up dramatically. Heather cast a glance skyward.

"If you have found him, then where is he?" Tiger inquired of Verne.

"Where's Uncle RJ?"

"I don't see him!"

"He needs to help us get past level eight in Auto Homicide 3!"

"Yeah, Verne, where is he?" Lou asked. "I know you want fix this, but don't be giving the kids false hope."

Verne waited for the bevy of questions to stop before he spoke. "I have found RJ. However," Verne continued, "he's not ready to come back. He's in a bit of trouble right now, but I'm going to help him out of it." 'Bit of trouble' was an understatement.

"What's wrong? What happened to RJ?"

"Can I help?"

"I want to help too!"

Verne scratched the back of his head. "Look, I'm sure you all want to help, but helping him will put everyone involved in a lot of danger."

"Danger?" Stella interrupted. "Since when has danger ever stopped us?"

"Ooo, I can do danger! I've done it lots of times!" Hammy chimed.

"Far be it from me to falter under the threat of danger," Tiger offered nobly. "I would pursue the well-being of our whole family, even unto death."

"To the death!" Ozzie shouted, hitting his chest and falling over 'dead.' Heather rolled her eyes at her father's conduct, but could not suppress a smile.

Verne looked at each of them silently, then shook his head. "I know how much RJ means to you all, but we can't just charge in and rescue him. Maybe I haven't been clear on just how dangerous the situation is. Vincent is involved in this somehow."

The name brought collective gasps.

"Scary clown!"

"Vincent? But how?"

"I thought he was sent away to the Rockies!"

"He was. But RJ said he's back somehow, and what I saw of him…confirmed that," Verne said, his voice faltering towards the end of his sentence. Verne mentally informed himself that now was not the time for a break down, but he could not stop the wave of negative feelings that accompanied recollection of RJ's injuries. It was all his fault…

Verne cleared his throat. "So, uh, I do have a plan that I think will work, but I don't want any of you to feel obliged to risk your lives. I'm the one who made this mess, and I intend to fix it, because in truth, I don't want to make a bigger mess by getting all of you involved. On the other hand, I have no right to make that kind of decision for you. So, I'm going to leave the choice to you."

Verne was finished, his mind was made. Now it was up to the others.

Stella was the first to speak. "Verne, who are you kidding? You knew what our choice would be before you even said that."

"Oh-oh-oh-oh! I'll do it! I'll help! I love to help!" Hammy blurted.

"Danger is my middle name!" Ozzie exclaimed, to his daughter's chagrin.

"Dad, that is so cliché."

"To go back on my word now would be cowardice," Tiger asserted.

The three porcupines looked to their parents hopefully. "Well," Penny began, "we've made it through tight situations as a family before…"

"—so that's a definite yes," Lou said, finishing for his wife. The kids cheered.

"Then it's decided," Stella alleged. "We're all in this together, for better or worse. Now what do we gotta do?"

Verne smiled. He had known all along that in the end he couldn't stop his family from doing what they—and he—knew to be right. Verne explained the situation and his plan.

"...and when we get the food, we'll put it in our winter storage. Then RJ will come by at night and 'steal' it from us. We'll act outraged that RJ is taking our food so that Vincent won't suspect a thing."

"That's brilliant, Verne!" Penny applauded.

Tiger chuckled. "So where is the part that we are endangered, again? It seems like a perfectly solid plan to me."

"I'm glad you think so," Verne replied, "but any plan that includes 'don't anger the bear' seems pretty risky to me." The others laughed at this. "In any case, I'm going to invite RJ the log tonight, so make sure there's plenty for him to take."

With this, the animals hurried off to prepare for RJ's visit. Verne used the opportunity to grab a few things out of their home before setting out again. Unbeknownst to him, Stella had been watching him carefully and had followed him out of the clearing. When they were a ways away from the others, Stella confronted Verne.

"OH! Oh... Stella, it's you. Heh, I don't think I like your habit of sneaking up on people."

"Verne, what's really goin' on?"

"Huh?"

"Don't think I didn't see you getting choked up when you mentioned the situation with RJ. I want to know just how bad he's doing. And what's that in yo hands?" Stella demanded, seeing the bundle of bandages Verne gripped in his hands.

"Oh, these?" Verne sighed, but he knew he could confide with Stella. "To be completely honest, he's in terrible condition. If Vincent held back at all, it was only to keep from killing him.

"And it's not just his body that was wounded either; something Vincent said—or something… I… said— must have really gotten to him, because he acts like a completely different person. He doesn't even have the will to live anymore," Verne said. He held up the bandages. "He looks a wreck, and I was hoping to patch him up a little so none of you would get upset when you saw him."

Stella took in the information silently, her features showing deep concern as Verne continued.

"I can't help but feel that it's all my fault. If I hadn't said what I'd said..."

Verne's voice trailed off. Stella placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. What happened to RJ would've happened in spite of what you did. But let's not dwell on the past anymore. I think RJ's lucky to have you as a friend. You're like the older brother he never had."

"Thanks, Stella... I think," Verne said, a little unsure if Stella was teasing him or being sincere. In his experience, older brothers were often pushy, nagging, and sometimes over-protective—which, Verne realized, described him pretty well.

Stella giggled at Verne's facial expression. "Alright, enough chit-chat. Go find RJ before it gets dark."

"OK, ok, I'm going!"

Verne continued on his way to the spot he had found RJ, feeling much more confident then he had before. If all went well with his plan, RJ would have his debt cleared within a week, and things could go back to the way they were before all this mess.

Verne made it to a familiar section of the forest, and tried to remember which bush he and RJ had been hiding before. "RJ?" he called, hoping for a response. When he didn't get one, he assumed either RJ had left or he had taken his advice and rested. Verne hoped for the latter, simply for the sake of time. Searching through the bushes, Verne eventually found the raccoon asleep in the same spot he had left him.

RJ looked so peaceful that Verne was loath to wake him, so he decided to let RJ sleep a little longer while he applied the bandages.

Being an amphibian (reptile?) with rough skin and a sturdy shell, Verne rarely ever got a cut or bruise, but he had delt with scrapes on his family members a few times before. Most often it was one of the young porcupines with some injury they had acquired in their wild games, or one of the possums that had fallen off the branches in their sleep. Such accidents led to a cut or bruise that a little water and time would heal. He had never seen or heard of a band-aid or ice pack until RJ had come along and taught them that humans don't lick their wounds to heal them. When the others had marveled at the thought, RJ had introduced them to the band-aid, gauze, sanitary wipe, and aspirin, adding a sample of each to their collection.

At the moment, however, Verne didn't have any sanitary wipes, and so he resorted to the natural mode of cleansing: licking the wounds. As he went about his business, RJ began to stir. His eyelids parted a crack, then flew open.

"Verne...what the heck are you doing?"

Verne spat the fur off his tongue. "Sanitising your wounds."

RJ's face twisted in disgust. "Verne, that is so wrong on so many levels... what happened to the sanitary wipes I got you?"

"The lemon scented ones? Hammy used them for deodorant wipes."

"Okay, great, you can stop now." RJ moved to sit up, but Verne pushed him back down.

"Hang on a sec, let me put the gauze on first," Verne said, unfurling a strip of the white fabric.

"Ugh, no. I'm gonna go wash all your spit off of me first. I don't see how you deem that sanitary."

"Spittle has healing properties and it rids the wound of dirt and can prevent infection. Licking wounds is a pretty basic instinct. Have you completely replaced all your instincts with human habits?"

"I don't know what an 'instinct' is, but it sounds gross. Let me go." RJ pushed Verne off and stood up.

"Ah ah ah. That's no way to earn a Twinkie," Verne taunted, waving a previously concealed Twinkie under RJ's nose.

"A Twinkie!" RJ exclaimed. His stomach growled voraciously as drool dripped from the corner of his lip. RJ cleared his throat and sat back down. "That is, ah, I am sure we could reach a mutual agreement over the divvying of snack cakes and application of band-aids."

"Good." Verne handed the Twinkie to RJ and continued applying a gauze pad to the mean-looking gash across his chest.

"Where did you get this, by the way?" RJ inquired between mouthfuls. "I thought I ate the whole box."

"You did. But you overlooked the Twinkie I had in reserve."

"Lucky for me. You know, when this is all over, I'm gonna create a Strategic Twinkie Reserve to make sure there is never a shortage of supply."

"When this is all over, I'm going to introduce you to a debt management plan. Bailing you out of trouble all the time is getting pretty tedious."

"Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna make you listen to 'Hakuna Matata' 24/7 until you stop being such a worrywart."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

Verne watched RJ happily as they both laughed. It was good to see him in high spirits again, joking around like the RJ he knew. When their laughter subsided, Verne spoke up again.

"So, um, RJ... I'm really sorry about earlier, what I said. I shouldn't have taken things so far. I just want to let you know that it was me who was being selfish, not you."

"Hey, forget about it. I don't even remember what that whole fight was about in the first place."

Verne opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it and cocked his head to the side. "You know, I don't remember either."

"Well there's no use in bringing up bad memories. Say, did you guys think of something to get me out of this mess, or am I still fish bait?"

"I thought I was forgetting something..."

* * *

When Verne finished telling RJ his plan, he went back to the log, leaving RJ time to travel inconspicuously. Sure that no one had followed him, RJ crept across the starlit clearing, using utmost stealth to make sure none of the sleeping animals saw or heard him. Peering into the log, RJ spotted the stash of food the family had collected and began to load it onto a wagon. RJ barely finished putting a bag of corn chips into the wagon before a voice called out with excitement.

"RJ!" Hammy cried, throwing his arms around the raccoon.

"RJ?" The others appeared, close behind Hammy.

"Heh, ya'll are making it really obvious that you don't mind me mooching your food," RJ laughed as he fell victim to a swarm of hugs.

"Ya know, breathing is nice thing to do every once in a while..." RJ gasped as his family squeezed him tightly. "...in fact...it's kinda...necessary...for life."

Verne took the hint. "Guys! Give him some room to breathe! We're trying to be a little inconspicuous here?"

"Sorry!" Hammy apologized. "I'm just glad to see him."

"We're all glad to see him."

"Don't ever leave us again!" Hammy exclaimed, squeezing RJ again.

As the hedgies celebrated a happy moment together, two eyes looked on from the edge of the clearing.

* * *

**Who's watching the hedgies from the shadows? Do they have good or evil intentions? Have things finally made a turn for the better, or is this just the calm before the storm? H****old on to the edge of your seat, because from here on out, things can only get better. Or worse, depending on how you look at it. ;) **


End file.
